


and all our yesterdays have lighted fools

by hihoplastic



Category: Salvation (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 17:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21324007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihoplastic/pseuds/hihoplastic
Summary: Day 1 : 1320Well. Here I am. Stardate 601.9-7. Not really. Trajectory is on target to intercept the asteroid in 55 days, 11 hours, 21 minutes and… 14 seconds. Biometrics look good so far. In other words, I can still breathe. Which may or may not be favorable when the time comes, although I think I’ll take explosion over suffocation and is anybody listening? I thought you’d have cut me off by now. [static]Grace?  Harris? Can you hear me?  Can anybody hear me?
Relationships: Grace Barrows/Darius Tanz
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	and all our yesterdays have lighted fools

**Author's Note:**

  * For [universe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/universe/gifts).

> \- this is entirely @fraks' fault  
\- warning: super sketchy science  
\- title from shakespeare's _macbeth_

**** **Day 1 : 1320**

_ Well. Here I am. Stardate 601.9-7. Not really. Trajectory is on target to intercept the asteroid in 55 days, 11 hours, 21 minutes and… 14 seconds. Biometrics look good so far. In other words, I can still breathe. Which may or may not be favorable when the time comes, although I think I’ll take explosion over suffocation and is anybody listening? I thought you’d have cut me off by now. [static] _

_ Grace? Harris? Can you hear me? Can anybody hear me? _

  


**Day 1 : 1502**

_ I’ve done a full systems check. Everything’s operating on my end. I suppose I’ll just have to… wait. _

  


**Day 2 : 0121**

_ I’m no good at waiting. I’ve modulated the transmitter to send pulse modulations. _

_ \--. .-. .- -.-. . -.-. .- -. -.-- --- ..- .... . .- .-. -- . _

_ Come on. Answer me. Answer me, Grace. _

  


**Day 2 : 2237**

_ I’ve asked the computer to scan for signs of life. Over 7 billion, so that’s a good sign. Everyone’s still down there. They just… can’t hear me. I know they can’t hear me. Something—or someone—must have damaged the transmitters… but all of them? _

  


**Day 3 : 0230**

_ Spain, Australia, India, China… there’s nothing. From anyone. It’s like the whole world’s gone dark. I don’t… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. _

  


**Day 4 : 0115 **

_ There’s nothing I can do. I’m alone. _

  


**Day 5 : 0829**

_ I’ve kept a running log of systems and telemetry in a separate video file, to be uploaded to a black box which will be ejected from the Ark before impact. The box has a homing device and should return to Earth in a matter of months. Hopefully this information will be beneficial for reconstructing the Ark, if humanity so chooses; or, in any case, as historical and scientific documentation of what happened aboard Salvation and the progress of the mission. _

_ In the meantime, I suppose I should update this, more personal log, for… nostalgia. Whose remains a question, as I don’t intend to send this back or for anyone to see it. To that end, I suppose it’s simply for me to… process. Engage, in a manner of speaking, with what’s happened. What’s happening. _

_ Oh, what the hell am I d— _

  


**Day 6 : 1902**

_ Enjoying the sound of my own voice, apparently. Given there’s no one else, I suppose I can be forgiven. _

_ You know, honestly I thought it’d be louder. The engines, the EM drive, all the rattling but it isn’t. It’s quiet. Hear it? _

_ Spooky. _

  


**Day 8 : 2131**

_ Ate a peach today. Not bad. Bit chewy. I’ll work on it. _

  


**Day 11 : 0913**

_ Apologies for my absence. Talking to myself became a bit… tedious. I was unable to import TESS’ operating system into the Ark—storage issues and the like, you can find a more detailed explanation on the black box—but, in lieu of that, I’ve written a code for a more… basic AI system, one to… keep me company, as it were. So, without further ado: _

_ Grace, can you hear me? _

_ [pause; whirring] _

Yes, Darius. How may I be of service? 

_ [pause] _

_ Oh, that just won’t do at all. _

  


**Day 11 : 2318 **

_ Let’s try this again. Grace, can you hear me? _

_ [pause; whirring] _

Screw you, Darius.

_ Ha! Much better. _

  


**Day 13 : 0803**

_ Grace, how are those scans coming? _

I’m sorry, Darius. Scans for radio frequencies from Earth remain negative. No output detected. 

_ How—how is that possible? _

I do not know, Darius. 

_ Are you telling me the entire DSN is just gone? _

I do not know, Darius.

_ Is there anyone out there I can communicate with, on any frequency? _

Please be patient while I continue to attempt all frequencies. 

_ Attempt faster. _

  


**Day 14 : 2109**

Darius, I have finished your scans. 

_ And? _

No viable communication detected. Earth is offline. 

  


**Day 16 : 1112**

_ The Ark remains on its trajectory for impact. All systems are functioning normally. What I wouldn’t give for a little crisis right now. Take my mind off everything. Nothing too catastrophic, of course. A leaky faucet. _

_ It’s just so damn quiet. _

_ Grace, play something. _

What would you like me to play, Darius?

_ What’s your favorite song? _

_ [pause; whirring] _

According to scientific calculations and studies done by New York University neuroscientists, “Africa” by Toto is the best song ever recorded. Would you like to hear it?

_ God, no. _

Suit yourself, Darius. 

_ Why did I give you such an attitude? _

I am programmed to approximate to the best of my ability human interaction. Specifically, based on parameters set by subroutine 1567. 

_ It was a rhetorical question. _

I cannot give rhetorical answers, Darius. 

_ No, but you’ll sass me into my next life before the asteroid even hits, won’t you? _

_ [pause; whirring] _

_ Never mind. What do I do, Grace? What do I do with the time I have left? _

Would you like a list of recreational options aboard Salvation?

_ I know what’s here, Grace, I built the damn thing. _

_ I built… _

_ I built… _

_ My own coffin. _

  


**Day 18 : 1604**

_ I wrote a song today. You convinced me to bring this bloody thing, so I thought I might as well. Here we go: _

_ I gave my love a gravity tractor _

_ It needed more bits _

_ RE/SYST took over the world _

_ With my tech TESS _

_ I built my love a rail gun _

_ It got blown up _

_ I think I was the President _

_ Or was that just a dream _

_ Now I’m in a battering ram _

_ Taking one for the team _

_ [pause] _

_ What’d you think, Grace? _

Do not quit your day job, Darius.

_ Insufferable. _

  


**Day 21 : 1500**

_ Do you know, I haven’t read a book on anything other than science and technology in, oh, years. Decades, perhaps. I keep up with the latest, of course—hobnobbing is an unfortunate side effect of entrepreneurship, but it’s all algorithms. TESS scans the web for popular articles and reviews and summarizes cultural hotbeds for me. I can tell you everything that’s happened on Game of Thrones, for example, though I’ve never seen an episode. Based on that ending I’m rather rather glad I haven’t. Disappointing, to say the least. And now I have… 38 days to consume all the media I’ve missed out on, read hundreds of books, books I selected and… [laughs] none of it interests me. I suppose that’s the impending death talking. What use is it to read anything if I can’t talk about it, share it with… anyone. If it just stays in my brain, goes nowhere. _

_ Doomsday can’t come soon enough. _

  


**Day 24 : 0012**

_ I’m not… sleeping. I suppose it’s to be expected. Insomnia and I are old friends, but this is different. Nightmares. Oddly enough, not about everything that’s happened. Not about death, or the waterboarding which, thanks again for that, Harris. No, these dreams are… _

_ In Ancient Egypt, those with vivid dreams were said to be prophets, blessed with foresight. They slept on sanctified ‘dream beds’ to gain divine revelation. _

_ Don’t know where I was going with that. Though I’ve been called a prophet before. Always sarcastically, of course. Even I couldn’t have predicted this—56 days in a spaceship I built, careening towards my death to save mankind. God, I hope they don’t make it sound noble. A dying man dying a little bit sooner is hardly heroic, Grace. _

_ Oh, Grace. _

Do you need something, Darius?

  


**Day 26 : 1456**

_ “Stars, hide your fires; let light not see my black and deep desires. The eye wink at the hand, yet let that be which the eye fears, when it is done, to see…” _

  


**Day 27 : 0500**

_ I thought I saw you. _

_ I was in the recreation room last night, walking the track. Trying not to think. And there you were. Right in front of me, like I could… I didn’t want to blink. I tried to hold my eyes open for so long they burned. I knew you weren’t real—how could you be? You’re safe, at home with your daughter. Your father. Maybe Harris. [laughs] How selfish am I? The man dying twice over and I wish… I wish you weren’t. With him, I mean. I can say that; you’ll never hear it. I wish things had gone so differently. For us. I have so many regrets but you… you, I— _

  


**Day 29 : 1027**

_ So. Fucking. Bored. _

  


**Day 29 : 2055**

_ Grace, shuffle the Ark m—mu—music files, apply sub….routine 727, and begin playlist. _

_ [pause; whirring] _

_ [Hank Williams’ “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry”] _

_ Fitting _. 

Darius, what is the purpose of subroutine 727? 

_ Mind your own bu’ness, Grace. _

My purpose is to ask questions. It is part of my programming; subroutine 82. 

_ Delete your programming _ , _ then _. 

Darius, is that an order? 

_ No. _

What is the purpose of subroutine 727? 

_ S-sod off. _

Darius, biometrics alert: elevated heart rate, speech impairment, and dehydration. Seek medical attention. 

_ Yeah, from whom? _

Darius, are you intoxicated? 

_ What are you, my mother? _

I am an artificial intelligence program. 

_ My point exactly. You know nothing. You know nothing, Grace. _

I know many things, Darius.

_ Don’t know when to leave well enough alone, do you? _

Darius—

_ Shut up! _

Darius, is that an order? 

_ [pause] _

_ No. No. _

_ [pause] _

_ [Patsy Cline’s “I Fall to Pieces] _

Darius, what is the purpose of subroutine 727? 

_ [pause] _

Darius, biometrics alert: decreased heart rate, internal body temperature dropping. 

Darius, are you asleep? 

I am lowering the lights to minimum output. Goodnight, Darius. 

_ [Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine”] _

  


**Day 30 : 1533**

_ In 1928, British astronomer Arthur Eddington published a book, “The Nature is the Physical World.” In it, he posited the theory of “time’s arrow,” a concept based on laws of thermodynamics meant to explain why we can only understand time as a forward, one-directional progression. You see, in space, we’re able to move freely — forwards, and backwards, and side to side. But in time—in time, we only grow older, not younger. We remember the past, not the future. _

_ The second law of thermodynamics states that the total entropy of an isolated system can never decrease over time. The entropy of a physical system—the amount of disorder—can only rise, not fall; that is, you can’t unbreak a glass. _

_ One hypothesis suggests that entropy is, and has been, steadily rising since the Big Bang, but that implies the entropy of the universe was significantly lower than it is now—why? Why is time so different from space? _

_ I have 28 and a half days. I’m going to solve the arrow of time. _

  
  


**Day 33 : 0312**

_ According to the Theory of Relativity, space-time exists on a four-dimensional plane, meaning time does not “flow,” as we perceive it, but in fact, simply “is”—it’s an illusion of consciousness. At the macroscopic level time is asymmetric, we persist in a natural, temporal order—forward. But at the microscopic level, laws—whether classic, relativistic, or quantum—are time-symmetric. They should, in theory, run in either direction, forwards and backwards. At the microscopic, you should be able to unbreak a glass. _

_ Some have reasoned that the arrow of time points in the direction of the universe’s expansion, heading toward an ultimate Heat Death—or Big Chill, as they call it—in the direction of increasing entropy to maximum entropy, where the amount of usable energy becomes zero. _

_ So it’s possible, that the expansion phase of the universe might, eventually, slow down so much so as to reverse itself, the universe contracting, and the arrow of time will reverse itself, go backwards. _

_ Grace and I are running calculations, testing theories but it’s all abstract; if I had TESS, if I were home, I could—but this will have to do. _

_ Our experimentation is limited to radio waves, which are radiative, expanding outwards; but if I can just find the right equation, create covergent waves— it’s all connected. Just because we can’t see it in nature, because we haven’t figured out the math doesn’t mean it can’t be done. _

_ There’s also the quantum to consider, of course, but if I could isolate the superposition of particles without actually observing them—and thereby rendering them time asymmetric—perhaps— _

  


**Day 35 : 0649**

_ Blew up the microwave. On the bright side, the Ark’s safety algorithms performed perfectly, isolating the incident and sealing the room. On the downside—ruined my breakfast. _

  


**Day 36 : 1700**

_ Weak nuclear force is the only fundamental force that doesn’t always manifest complete time symmetry. An arrow of time that doesn’t relate to thermodynamics. It means something. If I could just...concentrate. It’s a rare occurrence, but not impossible, that in specific cases weak nuclear force has been demonstrated to be time reversible. If we extrapolate that, if we build on— _

Darius, biometrics alert—

_ Grace, I’m uploading a mathematical theorem; apply it to subroutine 919 and— _

Darius, you have a biometrics alert. 

_ Override. _

I cannot do that, Darius. Are you injured?

_ No. _

Darius, scans indicate you are lying. 

_ I’m fine, Grace. Override. _

Darius—

_ Damnit, Grace! _

Biometric analysis indicates you have not slept in 73 hours. 

_ I can’t sleep now, Grace, I’m on the brink of something important! I’ll sleep when I’m dead. _

Negative, Darius. The medical operating system installed on Salvation will override my processing as a safety precaution. 

_ Who the bloody hell’s idea was that? _

Medical system software installed by Darius Tanz. 

_ Grace— _

Goodnight, Darius. 

_ No, no no don’t—damn it! Damn it. I can’t sleep, Grace. Don’t make me sleep. Please. _

_ Grace? _

  


**Day 37 : 1230**

_ I dreamt that you died. _

_ In the bunker I built, surrounded by the people I chose… you died. I don’t think you quite understand—or maybe you do. I have no way of knowing, now, and I never will. Every time I close my eyes I see your face, so… lifeless. And it’s my fault. I should never have left you down there. I know, I know it all worked out, in the end, but my mind can’t seem to let go. Every time I stop, even for a moment… there you are. Like some sort of spectre. You’re haunting me... from across the universe, as it were. _

_ I’ve turned off biometric alerts and reprogrammed Grace to override medical failsafes. You’d hate that, I’m sure, but I need to focus. I need to solve this. It’s the only thing I have left. _

  


**Day 42 : 0845**

_ I’ve broken a glass. _

_ Now all I need to do is unbreak it. _

  


**Day 43 : 0709**

_ Glass remains broken despite my eternal optimism. _

  


**Day 44: 1144**

_ “Men at some time are masters of their fates: the fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.” _

_ I’ll drink to that. _

  


**Day 46 : 1624**

_ Steven Hawking argued that the arrow of time is a weak anthropic principle—that the laws of physics are what they are, because they simply are; and we, as human beings, are able to exist only because the universe allows us to. It was not designed for us, and could have formed a very different way, with very different laws, laws that disallow our existence. _

_ The arrow of time, then, as far as entropy is concerned, has been a necessary condition for human life—without it, we don’t develop. We don’t evolve. Without it, we couldn’t eat—the consumption of food, an ordered form of energy, would not convert to heat, an ordered form, and we would not be able to sustain ourselves. _

_ Even if time could go backwards, to what end? Would we uneat our food? Ungrow our crops? Unbuild our homes and undevelop technology? _

_ More romantically, would we unremember? Unforget? Time is psychological—our minds can only remember the past because the past is infinitesimal compared to the future. Even if everything happened all at once, without entropy, without direction, how could our minds comprehend the infinite possible outcomes in the infinite decisions we make in just one day, one hour, one moment. _

_ Even if we could go back, an hour, a day, would we even recognize ourselves? Our loved ones? Would we unlove them all regardless? _

  


**Day 48 : 1233**

_ I suppose this is when the regrets set in. Suitably, they’re all about women. Alycia. Tess. My mother. _

_ Do you know, one of my happiest childhood memories outside the treehouse? My mother came to visit me in England one summer. She was only there a few days. I was 12 at the time, and all we did, the entire time, was look for the best scone in the city. We must have eaten a dozen in one day. Little shops, Harods, afternoon tea at Mason Assouline. We kept a little notebook and wrote down our observations, approached it scientifically. I’d made a chart: texture, taste, presentation, and x — something undefinable that made us fall in love. _

_ I wanted to solve for it, put a boundary on it, but my mother wouldn’t let me. She said some things just are, just have to be. _

_ I wish I’d asked you if you agree. I wish I’d asked— _

_ I’m sorry. I just… I miss you, Grace. _

Do you need something, Darius?

_ No, I—my Grace. I miss my Grace. _

Darius, I am right here. 

  


**Day 51 : 0235**

_ Grace… _

Yes, Darius? 

_ Play “The Nearness of You” by Ella Fitzgerald. _

_ [pause; whirring] _

I’m sorry, Darius. That song is not in my catalogue. 

  


**Day 52 : 0947**

_ I’ve taken Grace offline. No reason she should perish so violently, is there? So now it’s just me again. _

_ Just me. _

  


**Day 54 : 0130**

_ Telemetry looks good. Everything is on schedule and functioning as its supposed to. I’ve set the collision course and, barring any unforeseen circumstances, am due to collide with the asteroid in… 11 hours, 8 minutes, and 29 seconds. I have a few more things to take care of—the black box, primarily—so this will likely be my last… whatever this is. Due to go up in flames, me along with it. I’d drink, if I didn’t have to pilot the damn thing. _

_ To all the people who’ll never hear this… Liam, and Alycia, and Jillian, wherever you are… stick together. You’re family now, the best kind of family. _

_ Harris… you’re a good man. I hate saying that, I really do. But you are. ...even though you waterboarded me. It’s alright. I forgive you. _

_ Uncle Nicholas, burn in hell, yadda yadda… _

_ And Grace…. Grace. I’ll come back for you. _

  


**Day 55 : 0325**

_ We’ve been asking questions about time for as long as… as long as questions have existed. Scientists have spent their entire lives trying to solve the arrow of time that I, arrogantly, thought I could determine in a little under a month. But it kept me busy, I suppose. I’ll send my notes back with the black box, in case they’re of any use, though I doubt it. It’s all just… [laughs] starstuff, ironically enough. _

_ You know, the stars… were our first painting. We looked up, found an insatiable need to name and catalogue and recreate… to fathom something beyond ourselves. I’m not talking about God, just, for the record, I’m talking about… humanity. Our desire to grasp the fires, to write poetry and create art and sing songs and tell stories… about what we mean to each other. _

_ I collected all the great works I could find—of Van Gogh and Shakespeare and our founding fathers but I never… I never thought about the little things. Family photographs. Old bookmarks. A child’s first drawing. Why does Aristotle get a say in our next chapter and not Zoe Barrows? _

_ Oversight. And arrogance. _

_ It’s almost time, now. Less than 8 hours. And I suppose I’m… afraid. Not of death, not really—I’ve been living on borrowed time for too long. But of what comes next—if there is a next—I don’t… I don’t… want to spend it without you. You did this to me. And I never want to undo it. _

_ If there is any mercy in the universe… _

_ I change my mind. I hope you’re safe, and happy, however that is and whomever you are with I just hope… be happy, Grace. _

  


**Day 56 : 0132**

_ Seven minutes to impact. [static] —interference from the — core. [static] —unmentionable. Telemetry is on course. Favorable outcome at — percent. Necessary to — [static] —a final message. Home. —wanted to say— [static] —for nothing— [static] —human kind— [static] —Russia— [static] —the best— [static] —1 for 7 billion. I was wrong. [static] Grace— [static] —for one. For you. I — [static] — you. Goodbye. _

  


**Day 60 : 0634**

_ Well. Here’s a shocking turn of events. _

  
  


_ I’m not dead. _

  



End file.
